


A Candle in the Window

by Dancewithknives



Category: overwatch
Genre: F/M, Gency, Hurt, Love, Overwatch - Freeform, Romance, Window, blizzard, candle, in, the
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-17 00:50:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12353988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancewithknives/pseuds/Dancewithknives
Summary: Even in the heart of a blizzard, Genji still finds his way home.





	A Candle in the Window

A Candle in the Window  
Written by: Dancewithknives

Genji was not one to back down from a challenge. Even born to a life a squander and luxury, he always knew the greatest thrill was that of victory over great hardship. But for the first time he could remember he was frozen in his spot, unable to act out of reluctance to take on a simple burden. 

He stood outside the Shambali temple, just past the great open arch that greeted any visitor to the Omnic monks. Beside him floated two of the elder priests, legs curled together and hands clasped in constant prayer. The focus on his dilemma was gripped in his hand, a letter, being held between his thumb and pointer finger, close to his chest as he checked it over, proper postage and address filled out correctly and within their function.

Never before had he thought that something so simple could be so difficult. He thought the exercise a fool’s errand, a waste of his time, but unfortunately his master’s insistence, as well as his resistance, had proven the task’s worth.

His master, the Elder Monk Zenyatta, floated at his side at eyelevel. He made sure his presence was known, but did not dare interrupt his pupil. Floating before Genji was Tekhartha Mondatta, the Shambali grandmaster, likewise not interrupting the young disciple before him.

Genji thought it was pointless, but it had to be done. Slowly, he extended his arm and offered the letter to the old Omnic. Calmly, Tekhartha extended his hand and lightly gripped the letter in his own fingers, but did not pull it away.

Genji waited, thinking over if he was truly ready for what was to come, hoping that the great monk would take it away, but like everything in Zenyatta’s teachings, it had to be of his own free will.

Acting as if his fingers would be torn off his he let go, Genji slowly released the envelope and slowly pulled his metallic hand away. Once the cyborg’s hand returned to his side, Tekhartha took the envelope and slowly dropped it into the large mail bag slung across his side. Slowly, he lowered to the ground until he uncurled his legs. Now standing on the earth, he pulled out a Mailman’s hat and placed it atop his head. 

Wearing his traditional Shambali robes, a mailbag, and hat atop his head, he walked away from the two and sat himself down on a small hover mo-ped. With a wave of his hand, The Master Monk began driving away at a whole six miles an hour, down the twisting mountain trail to the nearest post office, more than eighty miles away.

Genji didn’t know what was dumber, the exercise he had finally completed after months of failing, or the fact that an Omnic capable of kinesis forced himself to deliver mail on an old worn down mo-ped.

“It’s good that you’ve finally done that.” commented Zenyatta.

“It’s a waste of time.” Genji replied, shaking his head at the principle of what he had done.

“I don’t think so,” said Zenyatta once more, floating back into the sanctuary with his pupil at his side. “After all, she was the one who led you here.”

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Years ago…

Genji Shimada had experienced his fair share of pain in his life. He had to admit that the night after he received corrective braces for his teeth had caused him great discomfort, but that was just only temporary. The sacred ninja training that his clan had passed down since ancient times, strictly overseen by his father for his brother and he had left his mind numb and body broken on countless occasions, but he had lived through it. The sight of seeing his new mechanical limbs and attempting to function in his second life, living in a shell that had once been a man had nearly drawn him to madness, but he had survived it. Then, there was the pain of betrayal, as the arrows pierced his body and blades sunk deep into his flesh, Genji had thought that he had already experienced the worst this earthly plain could do to him as he watched as his very brother drew the sacred blade of the Shimada Lineage and drove it deep into his heart. But Hanzo had discipline, he struck without hesitation, but with compassion. He was ordered to make his brother suffer, but he made sure to perform Genji’s punishment without pain.

None of that compared to the wrath of the Himalayas. 

Genji wandered the world without purpose, a restless soul scouring the earth looking for a place to find eternal peace. The mountains had invited him to their challenge by the mere presence of their sight, but the oncoming storm was to be the true test. 

Genji had traveled through the snow, up the cliffs, and passed through frozen canyons, but the days had taken a toll on him. Early in his expedition the cold had begun to bother him, but he pressed on. Then the snow became too much, but he continued. Finally the very wind began to push him down, but he stood, defiant against the forces of nature, continuing on and demanding that they bring on their best, and each day brought more hardships. 

The fight continued for days, until finally Genji had to admit defeat. 

He thought his body no longer had need for the physical world. The pain Hanzo had brought upon him had broken the young man of his hedonistic ways. But high above the earth, at the mercy of the mountains that wished to punish him for his arrogance, he realized that wasn’t the truth. It had been days since what remained of his human form had eaten, days since he had even seen the sun. What remained of his human half was at the point of exhaustion, the panels that powered his robotic side had gone days without even a glimpse of a solar ray. The snow, now up to his knees, made every step a conscious effort, the wind made standing in one place as laborious of a task as walking forward.

But in the end, that was the beauty of the blizzard, the reason why he went head first into the storm. Even after he admitted defeat, he had to keep moving forward, because turning back now would only prolong the fight. There was no turning back, only way out of the storm was through it.

So he marched, one foot after another, eyes down, and head forward. The armored chassis around his face was open, the wind and snow had frozen the external breathing ports around his armor, so now his natural windpipe was the only way to prevent him from suffocating. All of his internal systems were powered down to conserve what little energy he had left. Even if he had tried to connect to the world outside the storm, none would answer his broadcast, for all the external antennas had frozen solid. His visor was raised, for the outside was so cold that the warmth of his very breath froze against the glass panel and blinded him.

There really wasn’t much for him to see or do, really. He was surrounded in white. The air was full of snow, before him was only snow, and the few times he looked behind him to see where he had gone, the very footprints he left behind were filling back in with snow. For all he knew, he could have been walking in a great circle. 

Although he knew that it didn’t really make a difference, he decided it was time to check where he was walking. Although he thought of it as a waste of energy, he knew that the only thing that would be more wasteful would be to stumble off a cliff or walk straight into a tree.

From his slouch, he slowly picked his head up, squinting his eyes against the barrage of sharpened ice and looked ahead. He couldn’t believe it, but he thought he saw what looked to be a person standing out in the blizzard.

He freed one of his hands -wedged firmly in his armpits for what little warmth they provided somehow kept the mechanical digits from freezing- and brought it to his eyes, wiping away the ice from his irritated purple flesh and then stuck it out to shelter his eyes from the snow.

He didn’t believe it, but there was someone out there. Standing in the white death spiral that he had invited himself into was the woman who had brought him back to life, Dr. Angela Ziegler.

He opened his mouth, skin cracking as the wind cut away at the vulnerable flesh like hungry fish to plump worms, and called out, “M-Mercy?”

The doctor, facing away and wearing her white Overwatch robes and mechanical angel wings, turned. She saw the ninja in the snow and smiled. She raised her hand and beckoned him forward before turning around and continuing into the storm.

With what little energy he could spare to think, Genji was angry. What was she doing out here? He wasn’t going back. 

Genji continued walking, following the bob of her golden hair in the white storm as he limped on frozen feet through the sea of snow. 

Genji had returned from the grave with a thirst for blood. The Doctor may have thought that she saved his life, but Genji knew that he was here because he had a purpose, revenge. He was going to destroy the clan that had betrayed him. He was a vengeful spirit, and he was going to punish the Shimada Clan for following such evil traditions that forced his brother to commit fratricide. 

Genji wasn’t surprised that the doctor had somehow found him. He wouldn’t put it past her to hide a GPS tracking device somewhere on his persons, being that she had been the one to grant him metal skin, mechanical muscles, and machine organs. She may have found him, but this was a fool’s errand. He chose the path that he now walked, and he chose to walk it alone.

The snow became too thick, Genji couldn’t make out her form anymore for she was too fast. All he could see was her hair, a golden light directing him to keep going. He freed his arm once more and put it up to his mouth, with as loud of a voice as he could give, he called out, “Doctor Ziegler…. W- Wait.”

He could have changed course, walked away or avoided her, but he didn’t. Genji kept marching forward, after the doctor that had saved his life once and looked to be doing it again. For as determined as he was to have vengeance, there was a part of him that was grateful for what the young Swiss doctor had done for him, and maybe, just maybe, after this was all said and done, he would be grateful once more. He wouldn’t know until either this storm was behind him, or had froze him.

Long ago, Genji’s father had assured his brother and him that death was inevitable, that there was nothing they could do to stop it when their time was up. But, as he reassured him, until that time comes, it was their choice to keep fighting until it was finally time. Genji knew that Mercy was right to come here if she thought he was trying to kill himself. Entering the Blizzard was indeed a suicide mission, not because he was going to lay down and die, but because if his purpose was finally fulfilled, then he was going to give Fate every opportunity to take him away. If it truly were is time, he was going to make Death fight for his soul.

Dr. Ziegler was different. She was a good person, a healer of the sick and savior to those who sought salvation. She was not meant to share his fate. Genji kept marching not for his own salvation, but for hers. For he felt no greater dishonor, no worse of a regret, than to have the doctor die trying to save his lost soul.

The snow was getting too thick, he could only just barely make out the golden locks of his guide through the heavy storm. As he kept walking, he could just make out what looked to be a structure, a simple building made up of stacked stones, like a Sherpa’s hut or a farmer’s home, long since abandoned in the snowy wasteland. It looked to be that she was walking towards it. It made sense, this must have been where the search party was to rendezvous.

Genji was forced to stop, the gears and gyros in his leg had finally frozen. He tried to move, but his human bits were fighting against frostbitten metal, burning as much as they froze his flesh. Through barred teeth, Genji called out with all his might, “ANGELA!”

But she didn’t stop. She had entered the shelter and was standing by the window.

Using the momentum from his upper body, Genji tried to force his leg to move, but to no avail. He was stuck, leg frozen in place, and if the snow tingling against his body was any sign, the rest of him were to soon freeze as well.

It looked like this was going to be it. This was going to be the end for Genji Shimada, not only putting an end to his own miserable existence, but risking the life of one of the few people who had shown him hospitality out of genuine concern for him in his life. it was pathetic, what a waste.

Overwatch was a means to an end. After he had fulfilled his bloodlust, Genji abandoned them, but in doing so he had reopened a wound that had been cauterized by the flames of hate. The blade of his brother was not what killed Genji the first time. It was the pain of losing his family, Hanzo, his father, his clan, humans are not meant to endure such a loss. It wasn’t until that moment, dying, tired, frozen in the snow, that Genji realized the folly of his own mistake, that the only thing worse than having one’s family abandon them, was abandoning ones family.

Taking both arms down to his frozen leg, Genji wrapped his fingers around his knee, using all of his strength, his shoulders, his head, his back, all of it, he lunged, shattering the ice and frozen pieces of his limp leg and began stumbling forward. Not hesitating to stop lest he lose the will to live once more, Genji stumbled through the snow, using all of his focus to simply put one foot in front of the other as he controlled his slow fall forward, using everything moving him forward to make it to the stone house.

Almost there, Genji tried to slow, lest he run head-first into the wall. Using his good leg, he took a big step, slamming his foot down and sliding on the ice, but stopping none the less. He looked up, and was at the window. Blinking to clear his eyes, he looked in.

What he saw didn’t make sense. Outside the shack was a mountainside blizzard, somewhere on the face of Mt. Everest, but inside was a long lost memory that Genji remember living once.

He was standing in the doorway, looking into Angela’s office. It was one of the first days he had been cleared to walk on his own and try his new mechanical limbs. His new Blackwatch masters wanted to see the extent his mechanical body could go with his Ninja training, and an accident had left one of his mechanical arms amputated. 

He thought it would be fun, a good prank to see how the teenage doctor would react to him nonchalantly holding his severed arm, but something was different that day.

He had found her in her office, gently smiling as she signed paperwork, the midday sun shining in the windows as it reflected off her golden hair. Standing there, undetected in the doorway, he felt… guilty. He was broken, a hollow man filled with anger and machines looking to take advantage of her good nature and hospitality. She had something that he had never truly experienced in his life, content. She was happy with her life, fixing people, risking her life to make others feel better. The two were opposites, the born killer and the trained lifesaver, the incomplete and whole, the ying and yang. 

With the very last of his strength, Genji reached out his hand and said her name once more. All used up, his leg gave out and he fell, twisting in his descent and landing on his back. Now all he could see was the falling white, the cold snow that slowly began to fill his open visor. He was so cold that he couldn’t even feel it.

Bits of ice began to fill his eyes, slowly beginning to blur his vision. Mercy walked up beside him, she leaned down and smiled the gentle smile she always wore as she watched over him. 

Exhausted and beginning to become buried in snow, Genji was finally at peace. If this was his end, then he was fine with it, as long as he could stay in this moment for the end of time.

The snow kept falling, covering his face until the only thing he could still see was her golden hair, waving in the wind.

With his last breath he whispered, “Angela…”

With a whisper that somehow penetrated through the raging winds, she whispered, “Shhhhhh…”

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Genji opened his eyes slowly, cool water feeling like sweat rolling off his face. Slowly, he began to make small movements to different parts of his body, and although he was completely exhausted, they responded in kind. He wasn’t dead yet.

Looking around, the first thing he noticed was a primitive roof made of wooden boards and holes stuffed with frozen mud above him. Gently arching his head, he could see a window, it must have been the window to the shack that he had seen earlier. That must have meant that Angela was here!

“Greetings,” said a calm robotic voice, “It brings me joy to see that you are awake. When I found you I feared that you may have gone to join the Iris.”

Genji looked to the area beside the window, there he saw an Omnic, humanoid in appearance, sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and wearing what looked to be ceremonial robes.

“who… are you?” Genji asked.

“My name is Zenyatta. Please rest, you survived quite the ordeal out there.”

“Is… anyone else here?” he asked.

“The only ones here are you and I. Were you expecting someone else?”

Genji shook his head in disappointment. He looked back at the window and noticed something. Sitting in the window was a small white candle, burning with a bright golden flame, lighting up the chaos outside as a beacon of hope for weary travelers, leading them to salvation.

“I regret to share that the selection of tea here is rather… nonexistent. But I believe some warm water would do good to rejuvenate your soul my young pupil.”

“Pupil?” 

“Yes.” the Omnic said, “Here in the Himalayas, Fate only brings those to the Shambali temple who seek our guidance. Would you prefer to decline my teachings, young one?“

Genji was too tired to think on it, but rather than shut out he who saved him, Genji mumbled his acceptance and set his head back down, closing his eyes to rest.

He could feel the monk stir as he rose and approached him, settling right by his side.

“Splendid, I look forward to our future together. But, if it is no too intrusive, may I inquire something of you?”

Half asleep, Genji answered, “Sure.” The few times he had a public appearance Genji was always asked about things like his training, his armor, his weapons, or his abilities. He was sure that the Omnic would be no different.

“Very well. Tell me, who is this ‘Angela’ you were speaking of?”


End file.
